


Ritualistic (A FitzSimmons Short Story)

by Fritzen_lcaos



Series: The FitzSimmons Chronicles [4]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: AOS, AU, Agent's of S.H.I.E.L.D, Angst, F/M, First Kiss, Fitz - Freeform, FitzSimmons - Freeform, FitzSimmons fluff, Fitzsimmons kiss, Fluff, Jemma Simmons - Freeform, Kissing, Leo Fitz - Freeform, Leopold Fitz - Freeform, Science Babies, Science baby, Simmons - Freeform, Skye Johnson - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-15
Updated: 2015-11-19
Packaged: 2018-05-01 16:27:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 14,963
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5212751
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fritzen_lcaos/pseuds/Fritzen_lcaos
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jemma Simmons was ritualistic. At least that was what she was always told. Even at a young age she had a way to do things and there was a time frame that they had to be done by.<br/>That was before she met him, the strange man in a plaid shirt and mismatched tie that ruined her perfectly scheduled life in one day.<br/>A misunderstanding and an argument in a restaurant with this strange man makes her realize that there's more to life than having everything planned out.<br/>Next thing she knows her schedule is the least important to her and this strange man that captured her heart the moment they met is becoming the thing that is changing her status quo.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Strange Man in Plaid

**Author's Note:**

> So the idea for this sort of spawned from a writing prompt I found on a random website. This literally has nothing to do with the prompt at all, but something about the idea of playing on Jemma having ritualistic mindset, a schedule she lived by, seemed like a fun idea to work with.  
> I originally going to make this a one shot, but looking at the idea and how in depth it is supposed to be it might end up being a two or three part short story.  
> I am really proud of this story so far, I think it might be the best thing I have come up with in a long time.  
> I really hope you all enjoy it!  
> Thanks,  
> -Star_Lorki

_5:00AM_

Jemma Simmons alarm clock lit up with the soft, quiet sound of classical music. Stirring slightly beneath her cream colored covers, she rose her head from the two pillows that her mind yearned to bury her face in.

She was ritualistic, at least that was what she was told. Even at a young age she had a way to do things and there was a way and a time frame that they had to be done by.

_5:00AM: Wake up._

_5:10AM: Shower._

_5:45AM: Eat Breakfast While Reading the News._

_6:30AM: Leave for The Park._

_7:00AM: Read at the Park._

_8:40AM: Head to Work._

_9:00AM: Work._

_5:00PM: Head Home._

_7:00PM: Prepare Outfit for the Next Day._

_9:00PM: Bed._

_Repeat._

Her list was about as ritualistic as ritualistic could get, she put her a perfectionist to shame with her well thought out schedule. The only days that the list was obsolete were on the weekends she had off, and even then did she have a ritual.

Allowing her hand to reach out from her warm, toasty covers, she pressed the button that rendered her alarm clock speechless. Pushing off her covers, she sat up so that she could raise her arms in the air, yawning as she stretched her muscles.

If it wasn't for her locked tight schedule, she probably would not have woken up nearly on time. At the end of her work day she always had her coworker on her back, begging her to chill out and have a drink. While a breaking of her own rules wasn't necessarily bad, it wasn't the best idea either. Her job required her alert and prepared, something that staying up late and drinking did not provide.

Her coworker,  _Skye,_ made her ten minutes late to getting home. Had she been any later there would have been an issue of traffic and her entire schedule would have been messed up.

Jemma looked around her room, giving her eyes a moment to adjust to being awake. Bright yellow walls greeted her like a warm sunrise, despite the fact that outside her windows the world was still dark.

Wrinkling her nose, she pulled the ponytail band from her hair, shaking her head so that a series of light brown curls would fall over her shoulders.

Today was the day she'd put her foot down, no more letting  _anyone,_ not even her coworker, get involved in messing with her schedule.

As she plucked her carefully matched outfit from her closet and made her way to her shower, it was unknown to her that someone else would wake up in the next twenty minutes and begin to start their own day.

Someone that would greatly change both her schedule and her entire life forever.

_7:00AM._

Jemma Simmons had a very specific bench that she liked to sit in, one that always remained undisturbed and opened just for her.

While she did not have the bench made with a plaque stating that it was specifically hers, it was  _her_ bench and the entire world knew it.

So imagine her dismay when she made her way to her special bench, only to find that someone,  _someone,_ was sitting on  _her_ bench.

This someone was unlike anything she ever laid her eyes on, a slim lad wearing a plaid, button down shirt and a clearly mismatched tie. On top of his head was a small mess of curls, a hairstyle that was both as unusual and new as his sense of style.

His face was pale and pasty, as if he'd never once been out in the sun. Despite her feeling disgruntled by him sitting in her spot, she was instantly intrigued by the unusual man.

Unsure of what to do with the situation she was handed, she dug her nails nervously into the cover of the book she had brought with her.

She could sit on another bench, but just the mere thought of a different bench with a different view made her stomach clench. She loved her bench, she loved the view that it provided.

Her bench allowed her to see everything; the small pond with ducks wading in its waters, to the flower garden filled with beautiful blossoms, to the people that made their everyday walks and jogs on the asphalt path.

Sitting elsewhere would cause for her to lose this beautiful scenery, but sitting in her normal spot would require her to sit by someone new, someone different. Something she strongly disliked doing.

Releasing a heavy sigh, she released her death grip on her book and smoothed her hands over her white sweater, before forcing herself forward.

The closer she got, the more this strange man came into view and the more uneasy her stomach felt.

There was something tiny in the man's lap, a small device constructed of tiny pieces, wires and parts unlike anything she ever laid her eyes on. The man was currently tweaking it with a tiny screwdriver, his hands skillfully and carefully working on the bizarre shaped contraption.

Her curiosity worked on getting the better of her, her mind yearning to know what it was that he was working on. Instead of giving her wayward mind the information that it wanted, she turned to seat herself on the hardwood bench.

As she flipped open her book to where her bookmark rested, she was instantly aware that the strange young man was no longer paying attention to his weird project, but that he was staring at  _her_.

Focusing on the words that were on the page she was currently reading, she pushed this thought to the back of her mind. The book was something her coworker, Skye had recommended, a romance novel that set the standards of what would normally take place in the real world unrealistically high.

She tried to put off reading the book for as long as possible, but excuses were scarce and good books were even more so. Yet as she sat here with the book in her hands for the last two minutes, never more in her life did she wish she could focus on the horrific novel.

Her mind could not push aside the thought that merely a foot away was some random stranger staring at her like she was the weirdest thing in the history of humankind, making it seemingly impossible to read more than the same five words over and over again.

When it seemed like more than an entirety of him staring at her had gone by, he did the most unwelcomed thing.

_He spoke to her._

"H-Hi," he began with a nervous stutter.

She did her best to keep from sighing in irritation, giving a quick, soft return of the overused greeting.

She could tell quickly from his posture that he was both surprised and intrigued by the fact that she responded to him, for his once slouched position was now replaced by his back being perfectly straight.

He quickly sat his screwdriver aside, extending his hand out for hers to shake.

"I'm Fitz, I'm.. I'm sort of new around here."

Suddenly the words on her page seemed to vanish at the sound of his voice, which she instantly noticed had a slight accent to it.

_Bloody hell, the strange man was Scottish._

He must have been nervous over her long trail of silence, for next thing she knew he seemed to be rambling on his entire new life story.

"I just moved here from Scotland and I didn't realize..You Americans. Very unique, I'll give you that. I watched a lot of American T.V. growing but I had no idea that you-"

She closed her book shut quickly, an uneasy smile playing at the corners of her lips. Not only did this man steal her seat, but he was also depriving her of her quiet time, the only time during the day she got to think and not worry about anyone interrupting her  _'me time'_.

"Hi Fitz, I'm Jemma." she quipped, her voice dripping with irritation. "Jemma Simmons. Nice to meet you. Welcome to the neighborhood, I'm glad you like America! Now if you do not mind I have to-"

Her voice stopped the moment she faced the unusual man, as if someone had placed their hands over her mouth to shut her up.

She never once bothered to get a closer look at the man's features, so wrapped up within herself and her schedule she forgot her father's own rule, the last piece of advice he gave her before she left for the states:  _"Stop and smell the roses, Jemma. Life is not always going to be schedules and timeframes."_

The strange man's eyes locked with her hazel ones, causing her heart to skip a beat. They were the brightest shade of blue she had ever seen, like a crystal clear sky on a beautiful, cloudless day.

Suddenly her fingers were clutching themselves tightly into her paperback book, her eyes lingering far too long on the man's.

She watched as the man swallowed hard, clearly he was as speechless as she was in this very moment, as if he himself had never had a girl stare at him in this way before.

Which was sad, needless to say. He was certainly handsome, probably the best looking man she laid eyes on..

Her face flushed at her very thoughts, breaking eye contact instantly. She realized that the man himself got flustered, for her raised his hand to pinch his nose between his finger and his thumb.

"AH,  _Jemma_." her name rolled off his tongue in his heavy Scottish accent, causing her stomach to flip flop.

"That's a-a lovely name. I recognize your accent, British, right?"

Still flushing, she nodded her head slowly. The paperback book in her hands was starting to bend under her tight grip.

He nodded, his lips pressed in a tight line.

"I figured as much, I have friends in England. Though, I have it seen him in a while. Seemed to vanish off the map-"

He went on rambling again, his hands nervously tweaking at the little contraption his lap. She found herself quickly distracted by this nervous habit of his, unaware that she was staring an awkward place without so much as blinking until he stopped talking.

She raised her eyes as soon as his voice stopped, suddenly realizing that his cheeks had a red tint to them. The flush darkened in her own face, the book now wrapped into a tube like shape between her hands.

He probably thought that she was staring at..

She pointed to the equipment in his lap, quickly and successfully changing the subject.

"I saw you working on that, I am quite curious to know what it is.."

You would have thought that she had told him that he'd won the lottery, for the smile that spread across his face was the most excited, genuine smile she'd ever seen.

It was like a young child on Christmas morning, the very sight of it sent her heart racing.

"This little guy, his name is Sleepy. He is number 02 of a project I like to call D.W.A.R.F.s." he held up the little device, what she now recognized as a drone, and stared at it as if it were one of his greatest inventions.

From the way he spoke, this probably was his one and only successful invention.

She blinked quickly, narrowing her eyes on the drone. He quickly recognized the puzzled expression on her face and held out the little guy for her to get a closer look.

"D.W.A.R.F stands for Drones Wirelessly Automated to Retrieve Forensics. Sleepy is the third of his kind. I.. watched a lot of cop shows as a kid, thought it would be fun to work in the forensics department." he removed the drone from underneath her view, pulling him close to tweak something with his screwdriver.

"But forensics, their scientists are always getting up close and personal with crime scenes. As my mother always put it, they get their hands dirty. Sometimes that results in damaging evidence, or overlooking. D.W.A.R.F.s allow a skilled and detailed way to find evidence without so much as setting foot in the crime scene."

She felt as if her jaw had gone slack within the last couple of minutes, surprised at the amount of knowledge that left his lips.

She closed her mouth tightly, shaking her head in embarrassment. He seemed unfazed by her reaction, his blue eyes were locked on his little device. She began to open her mouth to question him on it again, but the slight chirp from her cell phone quickly drew her attention away from that.

Pulling it out from her pocket, she suddenly realized that it was her own alarm warning her that it was time to go, and that she was five minutes past her schedule.

"Bloody hell, I'm late to work! I have to go!" she tore herself from the bench, barely looking at the man before tossing a quick goodbye over her shoulder.

She thought she heard him wail something to her, but she did not bother stopping to see what. She had a job to get to and if she didn't make it quick, her schedule would be messed up for the entire day.

_8:59AM_

She managed to make it to her desk with one minute before her shift started, where she collapsed into her chair with a heavy grunt. Her breath was shallow and rigid, her limbs exhausted from running to work.

It was about a ten minute walk from the park to her job, that was excluding waiting at crosswalks, traffic and how fast was your stride. Leaving at 8:40 gave her time to grab a cup of coffee before her shift, but today she barely had time to clock herself in.

Which meant that because of this strange man, she'd miss her much needed morning coffee.

"Gees, did you run a marathon?"

Closing her eyes, Jemma let out an irritated huff of air, not even bothering to turn to face the voice that razzed on her.

Met Skye, the infamous coworker and now no longer the only person on her list of people that intervened with her schedule.

This coworker made their way around her cubicle, walking into the small area with a smirk on her face.

Skye was the only person in the entire building that talked to Jemma, most could hardly stand Jemma's tight knit schedule but Skye on the other hand, found it both amusing and pointless.

To her, a schedule wasn't living a life, but practically making your own prison.

Unlike Jemma, Skye was immature and young. At twenty-three years of age, the girl hasn't even gotten the full taste of what being late could do to one's career.

Jemma on the other hand, has. It literally could mean life or death in the right situation.

"Oh dear, poor little Jemma was almost late!" Skye exclaimed, shaking her head so that her long, dark brown hair swayed with the movement.

"I can't even get her to do that, so tell me, what was the situation that made our little perfectionist almost late?"

Skye was opposite from Jemma in more ways than she could count. While she was pale, Skye had a slight color to her skin. She had come to find out that Skye's parents were the reason behind this, for her mother was of Chinese descent and her father, American.

Despite wanting to know everything about Jemma, Skye was locked up pretty tight when it came to her family. No amount of alcohol could make the girl spill about her parents, it was as if something devastating enough happened that left Skye pretty quiet about the whole thing.

Those thoughts aside, Jemma sat herself up in her chair so that her posture was straight, her breath evening itself out.

Without thinking she punched the keys to the password on her computer, telling Skye the legitimate reason behind her almost being late.

"I met a guy, Skye."

She began to open the programs she needed to do her job when she realized that Skye had grown unusually quiet and it wasn't until she turned her head to look up at the young woman that she realized what she had just said.

_"IT WASN'T LIKE THAT!"_ she instantly wailed, flushing at the sight of Skye's shocked and amused face.

"Oh my! Never thought I'd see the day that Jemma Simmons would officially get laid!" laughter left her lips, as Jemma slouched in her chair in embarrassment.

_Of course_  this was how Skye would take it, the girl has only tried numerous of times to send her on blind dates. Other times she would find some new employee flirting with her because Skye had told them that she was single and ready to mingle, which only made things more awkward for their future conversations.

It was because of Skye that Jemma had problems in the romance department.

"We did not sleep together, if that is what your dirty R-rated mind is thinking!" she turned her back on her friend, punching buttons aggressively on her keyboard.

"I will have you know, he stole my,  _my,_ bench at the park."

She heard her friend scoff behind her, causing her muscles to tense at the sound.

"I don't know how you Brit's do things in England, but I hope that you are aware that America is a free country and anyone can sit anywhere they please."

Jemma felt the beginnings of a headache starting in the back of her head, a sign of stress and coffee withdrawal. She resisted the urge to snap at her friend, instead using her frustrated emotions to punch away at the keys on her keyboard.

Eventually Skye had taken the hint and left to her own work station, while grateful that her coworker had taken the hint, Jemma was still pissed.

She was almost late, her schedule messed up for the day and she knew exactly whose fault it was.

_6:16PM_

Today had been the worst day of Jemma Simmon's life, and it was all because of that strange man at the park.

Eventually she did get her morning coffee, but because of the clumsiness of a UPS driver bringing in a load of packages, that morning coffee ended up a being brand new stain all over her favorite white sweater.

She figured the day could not get any worse, but as it would seem it decided to prove her wrong. She was late coming back from lunch due to a rude restaurant employee, had her computer crash on her in a result of Skye trying to hack it for practical joke purposes and ended up stuck in traffic because Skye felt she should make it up to Jemma by driving her home.

The only thing that sounded like a grand idea to her when entered into her lonely apartment was filling up a bathtub with hot water, her favorite bubble bath and soaking her tense muscles until it was time to prepare her outfit for the next day.

She was just about to make her way into her bathroom when she noticed a red, blinking number on her answering machine, indicating that she had a voice message from someone.

Fear suddenly clawed at her mind, as the frantic worry that her father had left a message about an emergency situation plagued her mind.

It would only make sense, adding to her already horrible day. What better way to make it worse than add that stress to her day, since no one ever called this phone but her parents anyway.

She pressed the playback button with shaking hands, her heart racing so fast that it seemed to be pounding in her ears.

A loud roar of noise came in on the other end, as if an excited crowd was chattering in a tiny place. The familiar voice that came through on the other end sent her heart into an even faster pace, her already tense muscles tightening even more.

"Ah, yes, Jemma? Jemma! This is Fitz.. From the park earlier? Ah, listen.. I tried calling your name as you took off this morning, but I don't think you heard me.."

He stopped for a moment as the chatter on the other end got significantly louder, earning a soft swear from the strange man's lips.

"Anyway, you dropped your cell phone when you took off. Like I said, I tried calling after you but you seemed to be in a hurry. I found this number in your phone and thought I'd give you a call.."

She felt her face flush in embarrassment, her nails digging themselves into her palms. How in the hell did he crack her password on her phone? Never in her life did she more violated than she had at this moment, learning that some strange unusual man broke into her phone.

"Look, if you want it back tonight I'll be at the New York Deli a few minutes from the park at 6:30PM. If not, I'll just give it to you tomorrow at the park. I assume you must go there frequently."

This had to be the longest voicemail in she had ever heard in the history of voicemails, especially since now the voice on the other end had grown quiet and she heard nothing but the sound of chattering voices.

She thought maybe he simply he forgot to hang up the phone, but after listening to the chatter for so long his voice came back through on the phone, as flustered and stuttery as it had been this morning.

"I-I hope to see you soon, Jemma. Talk to you soon."

The phone call ended quickly after that soft sentence, leaving Jemma's mind to reel with both embarrassment and curiosity.

What did he mean by he  _hoped_ to see her soon? They only met briefly today and already he was trying to make something out of their unusual conversation.

No, that would never happen. There was simply not enough time in her schedule to even pursue this kind of relationship and even if there was, what made anyone think it would be with that strange man that not only stared at her like a stalker, but also hacked into her phone?

Skye was an experienced hacker and not even  _she_ could figure out Jemma's password. It had a special meaning to her, something that no one could ever guess.

Jemma traced her eyes over the white walls of her apartments living room, looking up at the clock that hung on her wall.

The time read 6:22PM, his message requested her to meet him at the little deli at 6:30PM. He would get a meeting, alright. One that he would never forget as long as he lived.

_6:42PM._

She never once set foot into the locally owned business, but as soon as she had she wanted to exit just as quickly. The place was alive and well, bustling with customers and filled with chatter. After the day that she had, both her and her headache did not want to be addressed by anyone, let alone deal with the noise of a busy Wednesday night.

She was on a mission, though. A mission to retrieve her phone back from the clutches of the strange man that stole it in the first place.

Taking a deep breath, she took in the surroundings of the small restaurant, the white walls covered in many different pictures of subs and sandwiches, signs displaying products and strangely enough, skateboards before her eyes landed on him.

He was just as he was this morning at the park, a mess of curly hair on top of his head, a pale, pasty figure tinkering with a drone at a round table in the farthest corner of the restaurant.

Ironically he was faraway from the crowd of people, a choice she herself would have made. Beside his drone was a half eaten sandwich that looked oddly familiar and a bottle of Sprite.

It only took her a moment to realize that she was now standing only a few feet from his table, gunning down on him like a dog after a lanky cat.

His eyes shot up as soon as he realized that someone was approaching him, once he realized that just who it was he leapt from his chair with an excited expression on his face, quickly disregarding the drone he had been working on.

This froze Jemma in her place, every word she had planned on saying to him quickly escaped her mind. One look into his bright blue eyes left her blank and speechless, staring at him like a fool.

She did not expect a response quite like this from someone she only just met, someone that seemed every bit of awkward and shy that she did.

He was unaware of her strange behavior, as he beckoned to the chair in front of her.

"Jemma! You came!" he exclaimed with surprise. "I s'pose you have not ate yet..? Or perhaps you have.. Have you ever been here before? They have these amazing sandwiches, prosciutto and buffalo mozzarella with-" "-just a hint of pesto aioli?" she automatically finished, unsure of where her voice had come from.

Just a second ago it was lost within her, but somehow, hearing him rambling about a deli sandwich brought light to the missing voice again.

His jaw hung slightly in surprise, his head tilting slightly to the side. It took every ounce of strength within her to keep from giggling, but she did not have enough to keep her from smiling.

"Sorry.. It's just, that's one of my fave sandwiches. I actually make it myself."

His blue eyes widened in slight awe, sending her stomach into another round of spiraling flip flops. She felt as if she were about to choke on her own, rigid breath. Something about this strange man left her feeling unlike anyone has ever made her feel.

Which flustered her beyond believe.

"Bloody hell," he mumbled breathlessly, "Where have you been all my life?"

As if the situation wasn't awkward enough, his proclamation made it even more so. Flushing deeper with embarrassment, Jemma lowered her eyes to look at the black and white tiled floor.

He swore under his breath softly, practically smacking himself in the face.

"Bloody, I did not.. I am.. not.. I mean, I didn't.. Jemma-"

"It's  _Simmons,_ " she snapped harshly, flicking her eyes up to his.

He swallowed hard, his face growing slightly more pale. She must have startled him, for he placed his hands on his lower black, his blue eyes lingering on the floor.

"Right, Simmons. I'm sorry, I usually don't-" "Where is my cell phone, Fitz?"

It was the first time she ever remembered herself calling him by his actual name instead of just addressing him as the strange man. She liked the way it felt rolling her tongue, the way sounded in her accent, in  _her_ voice.

She liked the sound of his name, it was like a word she was forbidden to say until this very moment.

Hands removing themselves from his lower back, he reached into his pocket and quickly fished out her white smart phone. As soon as it was placed safely into her hand, she quickly turned her back on the strange man, making her way towards the exit without so much as a word leaving her lips.

He stared in silent surprise, as the short, tense woman left in a quick stride, no thank you's or goodbye's meeting his ears in her soft, sweet accent.

He was not about to let another one get away like this.

"Jem- _Simmons!_ " he yelled out louder than he intended to, drawing the restaurant into silence.

Her face burning red, she froze in her place in the middle of one of the white tiles, her fingers digging her nails into palm.

_He_ stole her phone.  _He_ ruined her day.  _He_ had every pair of eyes in the entire restaurant on them and  _he_ was going to pay for every single piece of hell he brought on her today.

She spun on her heels, facing him and locking her fiery, hazel eyes onto his blue ones. She thought she saw him shrink back a bit, suddenly frightened by her death glare.

_"You better be afraid."_ she thought to herself, raising her eyebrows slightly.

"Don't you  _even_ dare," she threatened, her voice coming out harsher than she intended. "I had the worse day I have ever had in the longest time and if it wasn't for your  _pasty face,_ I would not have been late, I would not have gotten coffee spilt on my favorite sweater or my phone stolen!"

She clenched her shaking hands, nearly cracking her phone in her tight grasp.

"You are a bloody,  _insane,_ lonely man that ruined  _my_ schedule!"

Her breathing came out in heavily, her heart racing with anger.

The strange man stared at her with his jaw dropped open in slight shock, his beautiful eyes were wide and locked on her.

It was then that she realized that everybody in the entire restaurant was staring at them, at  _her_ , with an expression of complete and utter surprise.

It was only then that she realized just how badly she snapped, just how badly she was wrong and rude in this entire situation to a man she only just met. She realized just how right Skye was.

_Bloody hell._

Her face fifty shades of red, embarrassed tears welled up in her eyes, as she turned her back and raced out of the restaurant with lightning speed.

Once outside in the fresh air, she tore off down the sidewalk in the direction her apartment was.

She thought she heard the sound of the strange man's voice calling after her, but figured it was probably a figment of her imagination.

She let one small day, one small incident, fester within her heart and snap at someone she only just met. Something about that strange man, the man with the piercing blue eyes and pasty pale face, he did something to her. He frustrated her and if she never saw him again, it would be too soon.

 


	2. My Hope

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jemma Simmons regrets the way she handles the cell phone fiasco that went down between Fitz and her.  
> Heading to the park, she hopes to make it up to the strange man, only to find something that leads to an unexpected friendship.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: HOLY. This took me four days to write!! Buuuut, I tried to make this as perfect as I possibly could for you guys! <3 Hope you all enjoy! :) -Star_Lorki

_6:54AM_

Jemma avoided the park. Despite her rituals, despite how crappy her day felt like it was when she messed up her schedule, she avoided the park.

For two days she avoided it and a lot can happen in two days. Everyone was starting to notice that something about the ritualistic young woman, was off.

She is one of the best employees in the entire building, her knowledge with science had her surpassing everyone in the entire office. Then the next two days hit and it was like someone completely wiped that side of Jemma Simmons out of existence.

It eventually took Skye getting underneath Jemma's skin so much, she caused her to break down in a fit of emotions and tears. She let out with everything, which Skye was not used to. She now knew everything about the entire situation between her and the strange man, whom still refused to call by his real name.

It was Skye that convinced Jemma to face her fears and go to the park, before she drove everyone to thinking the world was going to end because they have lost their best employee.

It was on the third day, that ritualistic Jemma Simmons rose from the dead.

She approached the park with a shred of hope that the strange man,  _urg,_ that  _Fitz,_  would be there.

As she neared her usual park bench, she felt her heart sink when she saw that it was empty. Nowhere around it was the sight of a thin man in the unusual plaid shirt and mismatched tie.

She plopped down into the hard bench with a defeated expression her face, her hands bending the very book Skye had let her borrow into the round shape of a tube.

At the rate that she was going, Skye would make her pay for the book. At least she was paying for something, maybe the reason that he wasn't sitting here waiting for her was payback for her being so rude to him.

Granted he somehow broke into her phone, while she had nothing to hide, it felt like someone had opened her diary and skimmed through its pages. Her entire life was on her cell phone, from her own ideas down to entries about her greatest fears.

Just the thought that he'd possibly seen all that made her feel uneasy inside, but not as uneasy as her meltdown from a few nights ago did. Sitting in the place that she first met him made things even harder, she couldn't possibly focus on her reading right now.

Swallowing her emotions, she figured her time would be better spent hiding out in a local coffee shop rather than sulking for an hour in the park. She stood with her book(might as well be her's now), clutched tight in her hands.

She was starting to make the first step when something flew in, cut itself in front of her, blocking her path completely.

She had to blink again to make sure she wasn't hallucinating things,  _flew in?_ She must have lost her bloody mind. When she opened her eyes, the object that cut her off was still there, hovering in the air.

_A drone._

Hope suddenly flared up within her, a relieved smile crossing her face.  _Fitz was here._

The little drone hovered before her, almost as if it were waiting for a command. It took her a moment to realize that that was probably exactly what it, what  _Fitz_ , was waiting for.

Brushing her smile off her face, trying to appear calm and together, she looked directly at the drone with a serious face.

"Drone," she cleared her throat, shaking her head slightly. " _Sleepy,_ if you would be so kind as to lead me to your leader."

She borderline felt silly, standing in the middle of the park talking to a floating drone about bringing her to its leader. Correction, she felt mental. Like someone acting out a Star Wars episode all by herself.

As if picking up on her request, the little drone rose slightly in the air, before circling itself around Jemma twice and taking off in the direction of the pond.

She did not even question how it would look or how late it could possibly make her, she raced after the little drone, excitement running through veins on what could be at the end of this journey.

A short distance later she found the drone was hovering by the west end of the pond, directly hovering over top of the person she had been hoping to find. He laid on his side in the lush, green grass, wearing a different plaid shirt and a blue, mismatched tie with white spots all over it.

His eyebrows were knit in concentration as he stared down at something in his hands, a small tablet that his fingers were furiously brushing themselves over.

Her heart picked up its pace at the sight of him, relief washing over her tense body. It felt good to see that she had not completely ruined the park for him. She wondered if he even realized she was standing there, but he was so focused in whatever it was his fingers were working up on that tiny tablet.

Watching him with no intent on interrupting, her head tilted in thought.  _"I wonder what it would feel like,_ " her mind began, " _Having his fingers trace themselves over my hands after a long day at-"_

She instantly choked on her own breath, heat rising in her face at the thought she even dare let run through it.  _What on earth had gotten into her?_

Fitz jumped at the sound of her cough, eyes flicking up from the tablet in his hands. She sucked in a breath at the sight of his eyes widening, watching quickly as he dropped the tablet into the grass and rose from his spot.

" _Jemma!_ " he exclaimed, a smile that appeared to have both relief and excitement hidden within its corners spread across his lips.

"Ah, I am so glad you came! I felt..I felt bad about the other night. I was hoping you'd come back."

He reached down, his crystal blue eyes never leaving her once, as he rose up with a white sack in his hands.

"I-I understand that it was my fault your day unraveled, I was hoping this could be like.. A peace treaty. I don't want there to be war between our two countries." he chuckled slightly at his own joke, holding out the sack for her to take.

Just like before, she felt frozen in her place. Here he went, nervously rambling on again about God only knows what, and here she stood, rendered speechless because of it. She did not mind his rambling, in fact she rather liked it. She enjoyed hearing his voice, heavily coated with a Scottish accent, each word sending a chill through her bones.

_Bloody, she liked him._

Face flushing, she took the sack in her hands, opening it quickly to pull out another item wrapped in wax paper. Based upon its shape and length, it had to be..

"Prosciutto and buffalo mozzarella-" "With a hint of Pesto Aioli." he finished for her, a smile spreading across his face.

She managed a smile of her own, but it faded as soon as his eyes flicked to his feet nervously, his hands making their way to his lower back.

"I figured that I owed you. I understand a sandwich is not enough in the terms of stealing your phone.."

She ended his sentence with a shake of her head, the curls in her hair swaying as she did so.

"No, I can't let you do this to yourself. You did not steal my phone.. I misplaced it, it was my fault. It was wrong of me to accuse you like I did."

She brought her lower lip between her teeth, her eyes landing on the sandwich. There were many different ways he could have handled this situation, the most logical being to write her off as insane and avoid her for the rest of their short lives.

Instead he staked out at the one place he knew she would always come to, with a sandwich that he remembered as being one of her favorites.

There was definitely different about this man before her, this went even beyond his strange style sense.

He shrugged his shoulders, face flushed and eyes still facing on the ground. He must have felt as uncomfortable as she did in this moment, so she cleared her throat to bring his attention back to her, where she nodded her head towards the still hovering drone.

"I see you got Sleepy running. That's good news."

His hands instantly fell from his lower back, his head turning to look at the little guy with a sense of pride. The expression reminded her of a proud father, who had just received the news of something extraordinary that one of his kids has done.

"Yeah," he began, a smile played at the corner of his lips. "Only this is not Sleepy. This is the first drone I ever created. Her name Snow."

Jemma wrinkled her nose slightly, eyes locking on the device.

"Snow? As in Snow-" "White?" he finished for her. He rubbed the back of his neck, a sheepish grin spreading across his face.

"I was a fan of Snow White as a lad, as an only child I could watch pretty much anything I wanted. Except for horror, mum would not allow that., Anyways, Sleepy still needs a lot of work and Doc is still pretty much in beta, given as he likes to.. Ah.. ram himself into people's faces with all his bloody might."

Despite his clear frustration, she let out a small giggle at this little detail. That one sound seemed to be enough to wipe that obvious frustration from his mind, as he now stared at her with that same faraway expression from when they first met.

Her smile suddenly faded, her eyes making contact with his for what felt like the hundredth time in the last few moments. This time her blush started from the bottom of her neck and made its way up her face, the normally chilled morning was starting to feel slightly warm.

Placing the sandwich back in its sack, she shifted uncomfortably in her long sleeve blouse. This time, she made sure to wear a darker color in case of another coffee spilling incident took place.

She gave him a small, awkward smile, taking notice at how not even once in this last moment he removed his eyes from her.

"I was just curious," she began, her voice softer than she intended it to be. "You somehow got into my cell phone to get my house number, but I have the phone passworded. My parents wouldn't even be able to figure out the password. How did you guess..?"

The smile that crossed his face shut her up within an instant, he pointed at her in an almost almost accusing sort of way.

This was the sort of expression that Skye would give her when she figured out something about the locked up scientist that she had no business in knowing.

_Oh dear._

"That was easy. Your lock screen? It was a hint." he retrieved his tablet from the grass, punching in a few buttons before turning the screen to face her.

She recognized the scenery within an instant. A small, homey little stone cottage surrounded with vibrant, green shrubbery and a cute little fenced in yard.

_Her lock screen._

"Perthshire, Scotland. Am I right?" he questioned her, locking his eyes onto her still flushed face.

She nodded her head slowly, giving him a weak, little smile. She knew what he wanted, an explanation. Why Perthshire? Why someplace that happened to reside right in his home country?

_Small talk._ The man was a bloody genius.

"I was young, no idea how old. We went on some random holiday and we cut through Perthshire. You know how little girls are, they set up hope and dreams for their futures that seem unrealistic."

He said nothing in response to that, tilting his head and given her an expression that clearly read:  _"continue"._

She shrugged instantly, letting out a heavy sigh.

"I don't know, I just thought the little cottages..They were so  _lovely._ Ever since I have been fascinated, one day I just wanted to settle down, live there." she let out a nervous laugh, shaking her head, "This is probably the craziest thing you've ever heard."

Eyes lit up with interest, he shook his head slowly. Lowering the tablet, he licked his lips nervously, stirring up the butterflies that were already fluttering in her stomach.

"Not crazy, it's a dream. Not even a farfetched one at that. Sometimes we need something like that to keep us moving forward. Until we reach our goal."

The butterflies in her stomach shifted into what felt like a thousand fluttering wings tickling her insides, automatically her lips pursing themselves as her eyes locked on his.

This young man was certainly bold, for as shy and awkward as he seemed. His body language was definitely easy to read, he  _wanted_ to be near. But wouldn't that be strange? Only meeting a few days prior, why would feelings so rash and dangerous be bubbling to the surface now?

About the only thing she knew about this strange man was that he was smart, that he wanted to change the forensics world forever and that he had the weirdest sense of style she had ever seen.

All that aside, he was also charming, intriguing and handsome.

_Bloody hell,_ she sounded like one of Skye's cheesy romance novels.

Moments went by and neither of them spoke, it wasn't until Fitz cleared his throat and lifted his arm to look at his watch on his wrist.

"Ah, it's 8:35. You better get going, I don't want to make you late to work again." he quipped, giving her a little smile.

Ignoring the jolt of excitement that ran through her veins at that moment, she gave him a smile back, this time it was huge and genuine.

"Thank you, for the sandwich. I'll.. I'll see you tomorrow?"

His smile widening, she thought she could almost see a small twinkle light up in his eyes.

_"Tomorrow. 7:00AM. And don't be late!"_

_5:54PM_

Every morning was her same, usual schedule. Her grandfathered rituals. It would be mass chaos if it wasn't.

Yet, something on her list change. No longer was the park reserved for a few moments of peace and quiet, for reading a crappy romance novel(that she did indeed pay Skye back for destroying) that barely peaked her interest. Her usual park bench that she use to have all to herself was now become something she loved to share on a regular basis, so long as it was with the man that originally stole it from her in the first place.

Each morning was a new task with the drones, a different plaid shirt and mismatched tie, but the same outcome in the end.

_Neither one of them wanted their morning ritual to end._

A week and a half had gone by since they made up for the phone incident, judging from the quick way they clicked and how they always spent their mornings together, Skye figured it as they were dating.

Jemma would flush at the comment, but she had no comeback for her annoying coworker. She hated to admit this, but her friend was right. Each and every morning venture felt and looked like a date.

Fitz would bring a different meal each morning, which completely erased her reading the news over a gluten-free biscuit every morning. Each meal was something exotic and different, no doubt it was loaded in preservatives and fat. Yet, she never complained once about it, simply because it gave her an excuse to spend more time with him.

They'd spend the remainder of their time hunkered over his blueprints for the  _D.W.A.R.F.s,_ with their scientific brains put together, they were able to quickly solve  _Docs_ malfunction. Their faces would be inches apart as they worked, both seemingly aware of the fact.

This seemed to unphase Fitz, but it definitely messed with Jemma. Often she would have her thoughts trailing to irrational, off-limits places. Staring too long at his eyes, wondering what it would be like kiss him.

Would his lips be soft as they looked? How would he react to such an action? Would his lips taste like the muffin they ate only-.

She would then realize that he was staring back at her, eyebrows raised and his expression questioning. She would then blush and turn her attention back to the blueprints.

Neither one of them brought up the instant again.

Now she sat in her apartment alone, her mind reflecting on these thoughts, swirling them around in her mind. Their morning ventures were seriously the best part of her day, but now as she sat dwelling on them, she realized that they simply were not enough.

She craved more, more than just early mornings watching the sun rise, more than their heads bent over a picnic table working together, more than the words exchanged over their picnic breakfast.

She craved evenings curled up on the couch, watching cheesy movies or Doctor Who, eating popcorn while wrinkling her nose at whatever goes down on the screen. Fitz of course, he would laugh. He always laughed when she made that look of distaste, as if it were the funniest thing he'd ever seen.

His laugh had to be the most contagious thing that ever met her ears, causing her to break out in her own fit of giggles.

This entire thought process left a huge smile on her face, if only someone had been sitting there at this moment. Skye would call her out on such an expression, which oddly enough she found herself growing closer to the once annoying girl.

Her usually quiet lunches were now filled with stale jokes, random stories and unusual gossip as the two young women ate their food. If it wasn't for Fitz, she probably would have never given the girl a chance at a friendship.

_Now if only she had the courage to let her evenings become filled with more than just loneliness, her life would feel more complete._

As if on cue, her cell phone began chirping across from her. The sound startled her out of her wayward thoughts, jumping forward she answered it without so much as looking at the screen.

_"Hello?"_ her voice came out higher than she had intended it, causing her face to flush red.

She couldn't help it, she was secretly hoping it would be him. Him wanting to talk on the phone about his day, his  _D.W.A.R.F.s._ She knew she was becoming like one of those girls with a huge, obsessive crush but she didn't care. She didn't give a damn.

A voice came through on the other end, and her shoulders fell. It wasn't him, the voice did not match. It was too deep, too foreign, too,  _American._

"Ah yes, I was calling about your life insurance. Did you know that 60% of American's die a year without life insurance?" the man rushed about, causing her to roll her eyes.

She wasn't just mad that a stupid person was calling with a sales pitch as this late of an hour, she was mad that she'd gotten her hopes up and allowed herself to do so.  
This man would be the victim of her soon to be harsh words.

"Oh  _bloody hell,_ " she rasped, rolling her eyes. "If you call here again, so help me I will have-"

The voice on the other end erupted in laughter, causing her to knit her eyebrows in confusion before she quickly recognized the addicting, contagious laugh.

_Bloody hell._

_"FITZ!"_ she cried, her face flushing an even deeper shade of red.

As if her first reaction wasn't good enough, this second one was enough to make him laugh harder, his breath rigid and shallow in her ear.

With his laughter and inability to speak, she found her irritation quickly fading. Fitz was a dork, but as it turned out, he was  _her_ dork. If she were to dwell on it, she would never have him any other way.

He was imperfectly perfect the way he was.

Once his laughter died down a bit, she could hear the sounds of people chattering in the background. Unlike the usual, loud chatter of what sounded like a hundred people speaking at once, this chatter was more distant and random, every once in a while the sound of a car horn or a vehicle would meet her ears. Obviously he was outside, probably walking home from work or something.

He chuckled a bit, before clearing his throat a bit.

"Is that how you always are, Jemma? Do you have something against life insurance?"

She made a hiss of disapproval between her teeth, rolling her eyes dramatically.

"Why are you calling, you twitface monkey?"

His chuckle met her ears again, threatening to break into another round of laughter.  _My gosh,_ he was giddy tonight. If he were to break into another fit of laughter, she wasn't for sure if she'd be able to keep herself from joining him.

"Listen, I was just walking from work and I started thinking, I have never properly taken you out."

Her heart leapt into her throat, her hazel eyes widening as her hand nearly dropped her cell phone onto the table.  _Did he just.._

_"Out?"_  she questioned, trying to keep her voice steady, but despite her attempts it rose an octave.

"Yes," he began, his voice serious. "Out, like as in out of the house, to a place, with a person, like a  _date._ "

She couldn't believe her ears, the words that entered into her mind in his steady, Scottish accent.

_He just asked her out._

She must have been quiet for quite some time, for his voice was calling through to her on the other end.

"Jemma?  _Jemma!_ "

"I'm  _here._ " she breathed, nearly choking on her words. "I'm just not for sure if I heard you right.."

Now it was his turn to remain quiet, nothing but the sounds of traffic and people talking came through. This worried her, had she said the wrong thing? Did she offend him? What if he thought that she wasn't interested? What if-.

"Jemma, open your window."

She blinked, pulling her phone away to look at it confused.

" _What?"_

"Come to the front of your apartment and open the window."

It was a strange request, but instead of questioning him again, she rose from her spot at her kitchen table and made a beeline to the front of her apartment.

Tucking her phone between her cheek and her shoulder she pushed her curtains aside and opened her window, the sight that stood outside her window nearly caused her to drop phone onto the sidewalk below.

He looked up as soon as she gasped with surprise, his eyes locking with hers. As soon as they made contact with hers, a large smile broke his face, his hand coming up to wave at her.

Instead of waving back to him, she stood frozen at the window, her jaw dropped slightly open, the phone still plastered to her ear.

He looked like same old normal Fitz, but something was different about him as well. He wasn't wearing his traditional mismatched shirt and tie, but instead a white v-neck matched with a brown, leather jacket. His mess of curls were tucked up in a white beanie hat, which complimented his outfit nicely.

The outfit completely altered his appearance, removing him from the awkward, nerdy category to the confident, hipster-like one. His blue eyes reflecting up at her were the things that made her knees grow completely weak.

_"So what do you say?"_ he hollered up, cupping his hands over his mouth to make his voice heard.  _"Jemma Simmons, will you go out with me?"_

Her face remained flushed, as he removed the phone pasted to her head. Even if she did go out with him, what would she wear? What would they do?

This wasn't planned, scheduled, anything could go wrong.. _but so much could go right._

"I'm not dressed for a date!" she hollered back down, looking down at her outfit with that wrinkled nose expression of distaste.

She wore a pair of skinny blue jeans, a long sleeved floral blouse and a pair of black flats. This was her work attire, clearly it wasn't even remotely considered appropriate for a date. Not to mention, she was sure her makeup was in desperate need of being touched up.

Fitz narrowed his eyes, giving her a once over that made her entire stomach flip inside out. She had to keep herself from clutching her stomach, biting down on her tongue.  _Dammit, the things he did to her._

"You look perfect!" he shook his head, beckoning her down with a wave of his hand. "It isn't anything fancy, just a simple outing for you and I."

This almost worked,  _almost._ She opened her mouth to tell him that she'd be right down, but something stopped her in pace.

_The time. The situation._

_Her schedule._

If she was even remotely off, it could mess up her whole next day. Did she really want to let something as rearrangeable as this mess with her perfect work attendance?

She looked down at him with a sheepish expression, her eyes unable to meet his.  _Gosh, this could be the thing that would make him hate her._

"But..  _My schedule._ " she wailed down, her fingers tangling themselves into her curtains.

She watched in dread as he squared his jaw, his eyes darting between her and something off to his left. She knew this expression, whenever he was deep in thought he would look between what was before him and what was beside him, as if this helped him to think better.

Clearly it worked, for he looked at her with an expression of determination, this time his eyes nearly made her jump out the window.

_Why did she even question him, all for a bloody timeframe that kept her locked in her house in fear? He was her only escape out of something that kept her locked away from life._

_He was her savior._

After staring at each other in complete silence, he was the one that broke the silence, and what left his lips pretty much sealed the deal for the both of them.

_"Botch the schedule."_

_10:37PM_

It was just as Fitz had said it would be,  _a simple outing._ Yet, somehow it felt like the fanciest thing she had done since she moved to America, leaving her family and all sense on how to live a life, behind.

He took her to their favorite place, the little New York Deli on Main St. They sat at their favorite round table in the far corner of the restaurant, where he even pulled out the chair for her like a gentleman.

They mostly talked the entire evening, neglecting their favorite sandwiches to tell one another about their day. The entire meal consisted of laughter and joking, sneaking glances at one another and longing for one of them to catch them.

They left just as the restaurant was about to close, Fitz being the one that insisted he pay the bill. Somehow she couldn't find the urge to argue with him about it, giving in easier than she usually would.

Now as they both walked down Main St under the twinkling of little lights on strung from lamp post to lamp post, he told her a story about his time being a young lad in Scotland.

"Mum was pissed, she was. I was covered in mud from head-to-toe and I walked in the house as if nothing was tha' matter. You can bet I never did a foolish thing like that ever again."

Jemma threw her head back in laughter, using him for support as she laughed to the point of tears. She hadn't felt herself laugh this hard in ages, till her sides ached and her face hurt.

It felt amazing.

A grin quickly spread across his face, as nudged her lightly.

"My mum would like you. You both would get along well, not too mention she'd be happy to just see that I actually met someone in the States."

Jemma's eyebrows raised themselves slightly, as she looked up at him with curious eyes.

"Oh? Your mother had doubts about you coming here, didn't she?"

She watched as the smile that was wide on his face quickly faded, his eyes turning away from hers. This left a stale taste in her mouth, leaving her to wonder if maybe she had asked the wrong question.

The last thing she wanted was to make this wonderful night awkward for them, especially when they seemed to be getting somewhere beyond  _D.W.A.R.F.s_ and sunrises in their conversations.

Her fear was quickly wiped away though, when he realized a heavy sigh and turned to look back at her, his blue eyes twinkling.

"Mum had,  _has,_ a lot of regrets. I never had a dad, so she raised me alone. And I was the odd one in school because I was so smart, beyond the years of most of my classmates. She got ill about a couple years ago and because of that I stayed in Scotland, afraid to leave her. Finally I guess enough was enough, she regretted for too long. She told me to stop fussing over her, that she could manage." he raised his hand to pinch his nose, something he often did when he was flustered. "Next thing I knew I'm saying goodbye and I'm just.. _here._ In this foreign land all alone and I'm.. I'm frightened. America, this is, what do they call it?  _The Big Leagues,_ and here I was, a lonely little Scottish man lost in this giant, new world."

He drew in his lower lip between his teeth, his eyes getting this faraway look to them. Something about the way he looked in this moment, it drove her to breathlessness. Under the twinkle of the little lights, his eyes glistening from what she could not tell if were tears or from being deep in thought, he looked like a work of art.

It took every ounce of strength to keep her from pulling her phone out from her pocket to snap a picture, so instead she tried to savor the moment in her mind.

He released his hold on his lower lip, blinking a few times before turning to look back at her. This look was enough to keep her breath at bay, his next set of words making her head spin.

"But then there you were, sitting beside me on that bench. No girl back home ever gave me the time of day, let alone,  _sat beside me._ It seemed too true to be real, but then you kept coming back to the park, kept helping strive towards my goal, giving me hope when I had once had none."

He was facing her now and somehow she found herself facing him. Here they stood under the twinkling lights, faces mere inches apart. She took in the way his eyes sparkled when they looked at her, the way his face seemed to be completely relaxed.

This made her body tingle from head-to-toe, inside her stomach was the fluttering of tiny butterflies, her heart skipping beats from the simple way he stared at her with his lips parted.

It took every ounce of strength to keep from pressing forward, to keep her lips from trying to tangle themselves in his.

That was the thing, she wanted to feel the smoothness of his lips, the touch of his skin under her fingertips, the heat of his breath hot on her lips. She wanted his hands to press themselves to her lower back, to trail their way up her arms before tangling themselves into her hair.

_Bloody, she wanted him._

He seemed to read this, whether he saw it in her face or in her eyes, it did not matter. He opened his mouth to finish what he was saying, but it got caught in his throat, caught somewhere in his mind.

His eyes flicked themselves between hers and her lips, his chest rising with each breath that left his own lips.

It was when she allowed herself to take a breath of her own that he lunged himself towards her, his hands cupping her face as he brought his lips crashing down into hers.

She felt herself gasp as the sudden touch of his lips pressing onto hers sent a chill down her spine, her legs nearly giving out from the sudden shock.

His lips were everything she wondered that they'd be, soft and smooth, yet firm as they left themselves pressed on hers.

She wondered why he did not venture further, why he didn't deepen the kiss, why he didn't tangle their lips together.

It took her a moment to realize, that  _he_ was waiting for her to give the signal, the permission to let this go further.

He wanted her so say so as to not press her into a situation she wasn't ready for, but  _damn, she was ready._ She was ready to taste him on her tongue, to have him draw her near until there was no space between them.

So lifting her own arms to wrap themselves firmly around his neck, she deepened the kiss, allowing herself to open in a way unlike ever before.

She gave him the green light, the permission to go forward and when she did, he did not hesitate but instead he pushed down hard on the pedal.

His hands lowered themselves to her shoulders, his lips bringing her lower lip in between his, where he proceeded let them open her into a whole new level of passion.  
It was in this moment that she got her wish, his hands pressed firmly on her back, a kiss so deep it knocked the breath out of her lungs.

Here they stood under the lights on Main St, bodies pressed tightly together, lips locked so tight that nothing could pull them apart. Not that she mind, she wanted it to last forever, she wanted his lips to linger on hers, she wanted them trail down her neck, her shoulder,  _damn, how she wished they were not standing on the sidewalk of Main St, she'd beg for more._

She thought this would go on for longer, but was quickly disappointed when he pulled his lips hesitantly away from hers. She opened her eyes quickly to stare at him questioningly, her breathing heavy.

His arms were still locked firmly around her, the palms of his hands pressed firmly against the middle of her back. Her arms were locked as tightly, hanging over his shoulders.

Some point during their kissing, she must have knocked his beanie off his head for his curls were an even bigger mess on top of his head.

Normally she'd giggle at this sight, but she had not yet caught her breath, and the look he was giving her was another to leave her speechless.

His own breath heavy, she watched as a small smile spread across his face, as he pressed his nose firmly against hers. She expected there to be nothing but silence between as they tried to catch their breath, but that was tossed aside the moment he allowed his lips to part.

_"Jemma Simmons, you're my hope."_

_7:06AM, One Week Later_

The next day after their date, she awoke to find that she had somehow slept past her alarm clock going off. The clock on her nightstand read  _6:07AM,_  seeing those numbers in red sent her leaping out of bed and through the air.

_She was late._

If she eliminated some of her morning rituals, she would make it to the park in enough time to meet Fitz.

_Fitz._

That name brought back every memory of the night before rushing through her mind like a flood of water, nearly stopping her in her mad dash to get ready.

_The dinner, the walk, the talk._

_The kiss._

Bloody, that was some kiss. She wanted it to go on forever, she wanted him to follow her up the stairs and into her apartment, for them to forget about sleep and..

_Focus, Jemma._

She arrived at the park right on time, making her way to the pond at a fast pace. She waited for him to enter her vision, sitting in the grass with his blueprints, one of his  _D.W.A.R.F.s_ and a sack with their breakfast waiting for them to be inside.

He would lock eyes with hers and they would sparkle just as they had the night before, making her stomach flutter violently. Just the thought was enough to send her bounding forward, excitement rising as she rounded the corner, but stopping quickly as she came to their area.

Where he usually sat, he wasn't there. Just an empty patch of grass looked back at her, no sight of the young man in his mismatched combo to be seen.

She knitted her eyebrows in confusion, turning to see if maybe he sat himself in a new area entirely.

_Nothing._

The surrounding areas were empty, no one else to be seen. Nothing but the pond, the flowers and a few swimming ducks.

She turned towards the direction of their bench, but it too was empty, with no signs of life around it.

Perhaps their late night made him late himself, perhaps he was just now getting their breakfast and would be on his way shortly. She decided instead of worrying about it, she'd sit at their bench and wait for them to show up.

Her phone chirped some time later, she jumped and reached for it hoping for a text, but was discouraged to see that it was only her alarm letting her know that she was late for work.

_Maybe something came up at work, if so he would tell her all about it tonight._

No text came through that evening, nor the next morning. She arrived at her usual time at the park, but he was once again a no show.

Two days turned into three, three turned into five, no calls or texts came through to her phone, and each morning he wasn't there left her feeling nothing but regret. Maybe their date didn't go as good as she originally thought, maybe it was such a screw up that he couldn't face her again after it.

Maybe she was a bad kisser and that put a damper on everything they once had.

_"STOP."_ her mind practically screamed.

Whatever this was, there was certainly a logical explanation for this. Fitz wouldn't abandon her, not after what he told her.

_She was his hope._

She was sure something came up at work, something that was probably life changing and keeping him busy and he hasn't had the time to call her. Perhaps his  _D.W.A.R.F.s_ got picked up and he was in the process of getting the project underway.

A week went by before those questions could be answered, despite him being a no show for the past week, Jemma made her way to the park anyways. As she approached the park at her normal pace, something off about the park entered her vision.

Her bench was occupied, by a figure slouched over with his hands in his lap, a mismatched plaid shirt and tie was his attire. Her heart leaped into her throat as she broke out in a run towards the bench, her mind racing and a grin on her face that made her feel like a child running towards a best friend she had not seen in ages.

_"FITZ!"_ her voice wailed at the top of her lungs, startling the boy out of his slouched position.

As soon as his eyes looked with hers and she was close enough to make out his face, she skidded to a complete stop.

Normally the face that was lit up with a smile at the sight of her approaching, was now wearing a serious frown. His face usually pale and pasty, was red, as were the rims of his eyes. It wasn't until she locked eyes with his and saw the slight glistening of tears that she realized,  _he was crying._

This left her both speechless and concerned, to have him disappear for a week only to return to their favorite bench in tears and clearly a mess.

His tie was crooked and nearly undone, the first few buttons at the top of his shirt were not fully buttoned. His hands resting in his lap were shaking something fierce, as if the man had just witnessed something horrifying.

_"Fitz?"_  she managed, her voice sounding weak.

This seemed to only upset him more, as more tears began to well up in his eyes. He untangled one of his shaking hands from the other, where he pat the bench beside him softly.

"Jemma, you might want to sit down.."

She felt a lump form in her throat, her heart picking up its pace within her chest.

_Was he breaking up with her? No, that would make no sense. There was something else wrong, something deeper._

Oh hell, she prayed that he wasn't about to tell her that he had an illness and was going to die in six months.

That seemed like her kind of luck, to receive something good and pure only to have it ripped from her grasp shortly after.

The very thought made her sick to her stomach.

She nodded slowly, keeping her hands and legs from shaking so as to not freak him out anymore than he already was. She barely got herself seated when everything that was building up within those tears of his began spilling out.

"After our..our date, I went home to see that I had a missed call on my cell. I had a voicemail, it was a voice and a name I did not recognize." his hands continued to shake in his lap, as the first real tear began to trail its way down his cheek.

She resisted the urge to reach forward and wipe the tear from his cheek, but seeing him cry for the first time ever was like taking a knife and repeatedly stabbing it through her chest. She couldn't bear the pain it brought her.

He nearly choked on a shaky breath, bringing his hand up to press his nose tightly between his finger and thumb.

"It was a nurse, Jemma.  _A nurse._ Calling to tell me that my mum, she- _her illness,_  took a turn for the worse. Jemma, she told me that my mum was dying."

Her entire body froze as that last sentence left his lips, her eyes widening in shock.

In the time she got to know Fitz, she learned very quickly that his mother was everything to him, and that he was her world. They had a bond unlike anything she ever heard of before and a lot of that was because Fitz's father left when he was too young to remember.

She couldn't envision losing either one of her parents, they meant the world to her. But unlike her, Fitz only had one parent and on top of that, it was pretty clear that she was the only person he ever had.

_"Oh Fitz,"_ she began, cringing at how filled her voice was with pity.

If there was one thing she knew, no one liked pity. She was pretty that Fitz hated pity more than anything, as that was all people ever gave him his entire life.

Pity for being the loner, for being the weird kid in school, for not having a father..

He shook his head, lowering his hand back into his lap.

"I left for Scotland as soon as I could, spend one day with her before she.." he trailed off, clearing his throat before continuing. "She was less afraid of dying, but more afraid of leaving me behind. She thought she'd be leaving me alone. That's when I told her about you.."

Jemma looked up at him with a look of complete surprise, her jaw dropping slightly. She tried to think of something to say, but nothing could come to her mind.

Of all the things he could have brought up as a comfort to his dying mother, he chose her.

_"Me?_ " she questioned, her voice shaky.

He nodded slowly, lifting his hand to wipe a couple more tears running down her face.

"All my life she was the only person I had to look out for me, me coming to America was hard but at least I was a phone call away. Death is..  _You_ were her hope, Jemma. I told her everything I could about you, even showed her a picture. I told her how we met, how you were helping me with the  _D.W.A.R.F.s_ and how we spent every morning at the park together.."

She wasn't aware of the tears streaming down her face until she felt herself sniffle, it was then that she realized that her face was sticky with tears, and that more were coming.

Despite his own tears and pain, a weak smile crossed his face. He leaned forward to brush the hair falling into her face out of her eyes, so that it would not get stuck in the tears on her face.

"I-I watched my mum die, Jemma. I never saw anyone die before..except for on T.V and even then, everyone was scared or suffering. My mum died happy knowing that you'd be here for me. That you'd be my hope."

She couldn't take another word, covering her own mouth with her hand as she let out a sob. This entire week she was worried she had done something wrong to ruin what they had achieved between them and here he was, in a complete other country convincing his dying mother that she was his new hope.

Now she sat here with tears burning down her face like acid, the man she no doubt was the one for her crying with her.

Without so much as another word, he pulled her into his arms, where she nestled his face into his chest and sobbed. She was seemingly aware of the fact that he was stroking her hair, speaking with a shaky voice trying to comfort her.

If anyone should be comforted, it should be him for he was the one that lost his mother, the one that was hurting and grieving.

Yet, he took it in his mind that she needed more comforting than him, while she could still hear a hint of crying in his voice, she could tell that there was a small smile on his face as well.

They must have looked crazy to anyone that walked by or around the park; two young adults sitting on a park bench crying into one another's arms. His outfit slightly sloppy, her makeup a mess, both of their faces blotchy and red.

Neither one of them cared, everyone could stare and think they were insane, maybe even called them out on it.

Neither one of them would have given it a single thought, for they had each other and that was hope enough that with each other, they could get through anything.

 


	3. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It took one man to help Jemma Simmons realize that life is more fragile than you realize and that life can't be just schedule's and time frames. You have to allow yourself to live life a little before it slips on by.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really, really enjoyed writing this short story. There is a deeper meaning to this story that I don't think most of you realized. This is more than just me trying to write out my feels, but to also maybe point out something to the people reading this. I think that is one reason why I enjoyed writing it so much. Life is temporary, live it to your fullest. Enjoy! -Star_Lorki

~~~~_11:32PM_

Jemma called into work sick. Something she never did once at her place of work. But there was an emergency that was far more important than work or any schedule or rituals she had on her plate.

It was the fact that her best friend, her  _boyfriend_ , needed her now more than ever. Skye saw through the whole sick scheme and understood completely what Jemma was doing when she explained the details.

She was just grateful that Skye did not use this to make a joke about getting something ridiculous like grief sex, though she highly doubted her friend would make a bold and rash statement about a man that just lost his mother.

After spending the majority of their time crying, talking and laughing on the bench at the park, Fitz decided it would be best to go home and change, considering that his shirt was now soaked and covered in most of Jemma's makeup.

It was the first time she'd ever seen his place, in which she was surprised to see that his place wasn't a tiny little apartment like the one she currently lived in, but a small, decent size house that was both quaint and adorable.

In fact, with its white picket fence, red brick exterior, she considered it somewhere equal and maybe higher with Perthshire on the loveliness level.

The inside was even cuter than the outside, with two bedrooms, a decent sized kitchen, living room, two bathrooms (one with a Jacuzzi), Jemma found herself falling in love with the place instantly.

After she cleaned the rest of the makeup off of her face and he got his outfit changed, they left to their favorite little restaurant on Main St, before using the different shops and stores in the little small town as an excuse to hold hands while looking at the different shops.

Despite having just lost his mother only a few days ago, Fitz looked like the happiest person in the entire world at this moment. It left her feeling both flattered and strange, knowing that the reason he felt this way was because of her.

She would have never expected in her entire life that she'd grow to become someone's whole world like this, where the mere sight of her presence was enough to melt any bad situation away.

The entire thought left her overthinking the whole thing, over thinking a  _lot_ of things. Her mind could barely focus on that though, for she was constantly being brought back to reality when Fitz pointed out something to her.

Both exhausted from walking around for so long, he invited her to come back to his place, where they both decided to curl up on the couch and he let her pick Doctor Who.

Normally she'd want to razz on about the scientific inaccuracies that took place in the T.V series, but considering she never once before watched the show with a friend before she kept her mouth shut, not wanting to ruin the fact that he was allowing her to stay curled up beside him as they watched.

She made them both dinner, her own special version of prosciutto and buffalo mozzarella with a hint of her homemade pesto aioli. Considering the reaction she got from Fitz, she figured he'd never want to eat the New York Deli's version again.

Their night ended with him bringing her back to her apartment, which was the part of the day she had been dreading the most. It wasn't because they'd be apart until the morning, but because of what she told herself she would do when returned home.

_Call her parents._

She hadn't been exactly honest, she usually called her parents about once a week to let them know how her life was in America. Lately she avoided them, because now it seemed every time she got on the phone her father would be upset that she wasn't taking his advice seriously.

After hearing how Fitz lost his mother so unexpectedly, it got her thinking. Life could not be planned, nor could it be scheduled to the way it fit best for you.

Life is unpredictable, it throws obstacles, situations and relationships your way for a reason. With each situation you make it through and overcome, the more strength you have to face the things you fear most.

She had many fears balled up within her, fear of making friends, fear of falling in love, all because she was afraid it would mess up her chances of getting somewhere in her scientific career.

It took meeting someone, a pale, unusual lad that had a strange style sense and an even stranger personality. In the end, she grew to find out that this strange man was actually a sweet, charming, worthy young man with a heart bigger than the entire United Kingdom put together.

If it wasn't for him, she wouldn't have a new best friend, a more fulfilling life and someone to look forward to spending everyday with.

Picking up the phone, she listened as the phone ring with her breath held, only releasing it when she heard a familiar voice pick it up on the other end.

_Two Years Later._

_5:00AM_

Jemma Simmons alarm clock lit up with soft, classical music. The soft sound met her ears instantly, stirring her awake to the point that she reached over and pressed the button to turn the alarm off.

She rubbed the sleep out of her eyes, before opening them to take in the surroundings around her. Soft tan walls met her eyes instantly, sometimes this surprised her as she grew use to waking up to the sight of bright, vibrant yellow walls.

Pushing that thought aside, she tried to coax herself into getting out of bed to begin preparing for her day, but the sound of someone groaning in the bed beside quickly told her that she might as well surrender that idea.

Shortly after this, a pair of arms wrapped themselves around her lower waist, and pulled her further into the bed. She let out a slight giggle, as the person drew her close to them.

Fitz raised his head from his own pillow, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to her cheek. She instantly wrinkled her nose, her skin both tingling from where his lips and his slight stubble brushed against her cheek.

You remember Fitz, right? The pale, pasty, skinny lad that wore mismatched ties and plaid shirts for a living?

Let's just say that that skinny little lad became more,  _well,_ formed and symmetrical, in her mind. His once super pale skin now has a slightly darker tint to it from spending so much time outdoors with her and the stubble?

No idea where that came from, but she thought it made him look hot, so he kept it.

He even traded in his usual mismatched outfits for a whole new wardrobe, button down solid colored shirts, blazers and even some white v-necks. Though she still liked his mismatched style, so he kept a few of those around for her sake.

He chuckled slightly at the sight of her nose wrinkling, knowing it as her infamous look of distaste.

"I thought you liked my stubble," he teased, nuzzling his face into her neck.

She sucked in a breath slightly, squirming against him.

"I like how it looks, doesn't mean I like how it  _feels_."

He lifted his head from the crook of her neck, before resting his chin on her bare shoulder. His arms automatically tightened themselves around her, drawing her as close as he could bring her.

She felt something cold brush against her bare arm as he ran his hand up it, unable to help the smile that crossed her face at the sight of the gold band on his finger.

Ten months ago they got married, where they had a wedding ceremony at the park that they first met. Months before that on one of their morning dates, he proposed to her at the bench they always shared together.

The park was still a ritual of theirs they liked to visit every single morning, but if neither one of them got a move on, there wouldn't be any visit to the park today.

She squirmed again in his arms, letting out a small whimper.

"Fiiitz, if we don't get up and get ready now, we won't have time to go to the park before work.."

Fitz scoffed, removing his chin from her shoulder and hiding his face back into her neck. She had to bite down on her tongue to keep from giggling at the fact that his stubble was now tickling her.

"I don't have to go to work, the  _D.W.A.R.F.s_ are perfectly capable of taking themselves."

Right before their engagement, Fitz was able to sell off the idea of a wirelessly controlled forensics team to a large, top secret government organization looking for gifted and intelligent people.

Fitz only had to report to them once a week, making sure that everything was working and was fully functional.

Fortunately for him, that day was not today. Unfortunately for the both of them, she still had work to get to.

"Yes, but I unlike  _you_  have to get to work. No if's, and's or but's."

He grumbled into her neck grumpily, refusing to let go of his arms around her waist. He was not going to let her go anytime soon, so she had to pull drastic matters in this situation.

Her lip lowering into a pout, she made a sniffling noise that made it sound as if she were crying.

" _But Fitz,_ my schedule!"

This caused him to remove his head from her neck, instantly his grip loosened from around her waist.

Her pout suddenly changed itself into a smirk, but it was short lived for he rolled her over so that he now towered over, his hands resting on either side of her head.

This granted her complete access to his entire face, which was currently wearing a triumphant smirk on his face. His bright, crystal blue eyes stared down into her hazel ones, making her stomach flutter. Even after all this time, he still made her stomach feel as if it were filled with butterflies.

Lowering himself so that their lips were only centimeters apart, he flicked his eyes up to look into hers more intimately than before. She knew what was coming, yet the mere thought made her heart race with excitement.

The way his breath touched her lips, the way their noses nearly brushed, their eyes never breaking contact, he did it to mess with her, to tease her and it drove her  _insane._

He leaned closer, allowing his forehead to press to hers, his hands reaching around her so that he could envelope her into a hug.

As if this was not teasing enough, his next sentence was what officially did her in.

_"Screw the schedule."_

_Jemma Simmons New Schedule List_

_5:00AM: Wake up with Fitz._

_6:00AM: Have breakfast with Fitz._

_7:00AM: Go to the park with Fitz._

_Rest of the time: Live life to the fullest._

_-_ _Life is short. Break the rules, forgive quickly, kiss slowly, love truly, laugh uncontrollably, and_ never regret  _anything that made you smile._ _-_

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you enjoyed this story, along with Jemma's ritualistic lifestyle and how one, bizarre, but captivating lone Scotsman turned, her whole life upside (*cough* Fitz, *cough*), then you should check out @stjarna 's "A Bench with a view". Jemma Simmons has her ritualistic lifestyle, but everything changes when a young man just so happens to take her bench (the one that, of course, has the prettiest view) and this stranger grows to become more than just what one would consider a "friend".  
> To read more about A Bench with a view by stjarna, be sure to view it here: http://archiveofourown.org/works/12217659/chapters/27749874

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [The Christmas Wish - (A FitzSimmons Christmas Short Story) - Sequel to Ritualistic](https://archiveofourown.org/works/8712490) by [Fritzen_lcaos](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fritzen_lcaos/pseuds/Fritzen_lcaos)




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